Numb
by Ferdykins
Summary: Some choices haunt us for the rest of our lives, even those we feel we have to make. At the end of their rope Clark and Lana make a decision that will change their lives, and their relationship forever. Warning: Adult content. Very Emotional TC. Mature Re
1. Chapter 1

A large truck bumps along the road, only the rumble of the motor cracking the quiet moments before dawn. The radio, not allowed the opportunity to cut the tension riding along in the cab, remains off, the driver seeming to want to punish himself with the silence.

The bitter cold seems to have frozen the vinyl truck seats, the engine yet to warm up enough to battle the icy winds blowing about. Clark, despite the layers of flannel, and his super strength in enduring such elements, cannot shake the chills within him, feeling their source is something much more harsh to endure.

His blue green eyes gaze out the windshield, seeing the road

before him, but thinking about everything else. His large hands grip the steering wheel, the sting of ice cold metal not able to shock him out of his defeated thoughts. If he could, he would let the knots in his stomach turn into tears, but, even that would not ease his pain. He had done this. Everything is all his fault, and the guilt of knowing that to be true is almost too much to bear, even for this super man.

**x X x X x**

Lana stares blankly at herself in the full length mirror barely

recognizing the reflection staring back at her. The insomnia plaguing her has stolen the sparkle out of her pretty eyes; her pale cheeks robbed of their olive complexion.

Raising her hand to add a touch of color to face, she loses the will before the gloss touches her lips, feeling no amount of make-up can cover what she's hiding.

The sound of knuckles against the glass front door startles her out of the thousands of thoughts clouding her mind. She feels as though her feet are glued to the floor, fearing to take the steps that will lead her down a path she cannot return from.

Turning away from the mirror, she slides the elastic band off her wrist, twisting it around her thick black locks to create a sloppy ponytail on the back of her head, not caring how unattractive she appears.

Reaching for her purse, she pauses, letting her eyes glide over her room, the sight of her pink toile bedspread sadly reminding her of a time she can never recapture. Her lumpy plush bunny nestled into her pillow doesn't even have the strength to comfort this broken girl. Despite the fact that she has yet to outgrow him, her problems seemed to have overnight.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun has yet to peak over the horizon, leaving only the soft dots of Christmas lights left glowing from the night to illuminate the cold dark morning.

Although together, the two feel completely alone. Crushed and broken, Lana lays cradling her knees in the truck seat, watching the trees slowly breeze by the passenger's window, her swollen eyes seeing it all but unable to focus on a thing.

The knitted afghan throw Clark brought along to comfort her fails to bring her solace, yet, she lets it rest where he laid it, draping over her frail frame, shielding her from the weather induced chills it can battle.

Constantly checking on her out of the corner of his eyes, Clark fidgets with the heater, the sight of Lana's chin quivering causing him pain, yet he fears there isn't anything in his power he can do to help her. He has to force himself not to ask "are you okay?" knowing there is no possible way she could be.

He watches her softly bat away the moisture pooled in her eyes, the well of tears seeming to never run dry. The sight of his beloved balled up like a child makes his own eyes sting, yet, he cannot shed a tear, feeling her sorrow is far more worthy.

Crippled by the shackles of their predicament, there are no words he can speak to soothe her, not even the three beautiful ones she loves to hear whispered from his lips.

The feeling of being useless killing him, Clark brings his hand to her knee, hoping his warm touch will remind her that he will always be there for her. The feel of his flesh upon her seems to bring her discomfort, she shifts uneasily, pulling her leg away from his grasp, curling her body into a tighter ball.

Clark takes the hint, bringing his shunned hand back to the wheel, crushed that it seems everything he does inevitably causes her pain.

He can't help but long for the time when his hands brought her pleasure, when they're love was simply enough. Yet, as he looks into the face of his broken hearted lover, he cannot help but fear those days are gone forever.


	3. Chapter 3

As they enter the small room, Clark's large boots squeak across the shiny linoleum floor causing his cheeks to blush as every eye moves to him. Lana can't bring her eyes up from the ground, hoping by some miracle it might open up and swallow her whole.

Moving towards the corner of the room, Lana lets her frame slide into a chair, slumping her torso down to rest against her legs, turning her head away from all the other women in the room.

Clark walks up to the little frosted window and signs Lana's name on the clipboard as his hands shake uncontrollably.

Chilvalrically holding onto her purse, Clark returns to Lana's side, allowing a chair to remain empty between them to respect her earlier reaction to his touch.

Clutching his hands together, Clark slumps over, his large frame engulfing the small chair. Aware how out of place he appears, he keeps his eyes on his feet, concentrating on the knots in his laces.

Every moment that ticks by makes Clark doubt their decision to come here. All around him he can feel sadness, the sorrows of everyone weighing heavy on his heart. Yet, as he looks at Lana, already punishing herself for this choice, he knows the damage has already been done.

He wants to ask if she's sure, feeling himself he could continue this battle in his mind for the rest of his life, but instantly he realizes that's the sad reality of going down this path. The rest of their lives will always be filled with regret, and the time to have changed that fact passed way before now.

They had come to this decision, each for different reasons, and even if he changed his mind now, the final say was hers alone. Despite the fact that she is obviously battling with her choice, Clark knows she would never let anything other than her own mind decide her destiny. If she's sitting there it's because it's her choice, one she will pay the consequences for.

He can only pray she will not also have to pay for his choice.

"Lana Lang," a voice calls out from the opening door.

As though in a trance, Lana moves towards the sound of her name, hoping just going through the motions will enable her to get through the day.

Clark watches her slowly walk away from him, his heart breaking as he fears she will not return the same girl he fell in love with.

Just before disappearing through the doorway, she turns back to lock eyes with him. Without speaking she says so much, communicating with him in a way only she can.

He hadn't noticed until just this instant that she is wearing one of his shirts, perhaps an unconscious gesture that although a piece of him is being taken from her, she would still have a piece of him with her in her darkest hour.

For what seems like forever Clark can only hear his own breaths, feeling suddenly like a man who has failed in every possible way. Letting his head fall into his hands, he prays, not sure God will listen to the prayers of one who has done what he has.

"Forgive me," he whispers, repenting for the choice they made, the one that feels so wrong. "She's my life. My love. Please keep her safe," he says with baited breath, knowing he is truly powerless in protecting her now.

x X x X x

Alone in the quiet room, Lana slowly slides off her clothes, cradling the warn flannel in her hands, breathing in the smell of her beloved. "I'm sorry," she says to herself, hoping somehow God and Clark will both hear the plea from her heart.

Putting on the rough paper gown, her body feels foreign to her, seeming to not want to do as she asks. Trying to ignore the battle in her mind, she lays upon the table, closing out the sterility of the room and all the things about it that will soon change her life.

The doctor enters the room offering her his most sympathetic expression as he asks her a list of questions she shakes and nods the answers to. Coldly she's asked to place her feet in the stirrups, her tiny toes sweetly painted with blush colored polish curl up against the chill, her knees locking together with fear.

"I need you to scoot down further," the man says, his lips now hidden behind a paper mask. Waiting for her to oblige, he reaches up switching on a bright light above her before stretching a pair of sterile gloves over his large skilled hands.

Lana slides down a few inches, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she ever has before.

"You need to relax, Miss Lang," the man says softly, trying to gently guide her legs apart with his latex covered fingers.

Lana tries to do as she's told, but her emotions begin to take hold of her, making it difficult for her to breathe.

A hand softly takes hers, allowing her something to cling to. "It will all be over soon," the woman says, soothing her as a needle punctures her skin. Startled and scared, Lana winces from the sting as the general anesthesia slowly begins to flow into her vein, making the inevitable all the more imminent.

x X x X x

Clark sits slumped in the chair, feeling defeated as he waits, unsure just what to do next. Without being able to protect Lana from all pain and sadness he feels without purpose, seeming lost in the world that goes on without them. Desperately wanting to be a comfort to the one that will forever hold his heart, he fights against the urge to peer through the wall, knowing it's probably best he can't see what's happening.

Concentrating on the silence, needing to know she's all right, he listens hard, able to hear a muffled cry he knows to be Lana's.

Jumping up, unable to sit and do nothing, he begins pacing around the floor, having to use all the power left in him to not rip open the door and carry her out of this place.

Reaching the farthest end of the office, he brings his fists to the wall restraining his desire to punch a hole through it. Finally losing the ability to contain his emotion, he buries his face in his hands, drowning his hands in tears, truly understanding the meaning of loss, feeling he too, has lost a part of himself.

x X x X x

All around her things start to become fuzzy, the bright light shining overhead whiting out the figure neatly arranging instruments on the paper covered tray.

"Are we ready?" she hears a voice ask, unsure if she is the one expected to answer. Her body is too heavy to move, her tongue too weak to form words. She would never be ready, but even if she could find a way to speak the truth she knows now it's too late to say it.

The medicine flooding her body causes her muscles to relax, her once tightly shut legs falling open on the table.

Blinking against the light, the gentle hum of the machine at her feet slowly drowns out, her body tingling with the sensation of falling.

"Lana, I need you to count for me," the voice says, sounding as though it's coming from the end of a long dark tunnel.

Lana slowly lets her tongue moisten her lips, exhaling her labored breaths, trying to find the will to say 'one'.

"Lana, count to ten, please," the voice requests, the louder, firmer tone slightly waking her.

"Wwww...," Lana trails off, giving way to the sedatives as her head falls to the side.

The man, seeing she is quickly becoming delirious, begins what to him has sadly become routine. Carefully he slides in the speculum, stretching her body, making her flesh burn as it tears her.

As the cold instrument opens up within her, she can only think to herself _"this is real"_, before closing her eyes, surrendering to the fight.

The medicine thankfully takes no time to completely lighten her mind and heavy her lids, mercifully causing her to drift to a place where she can no longer feel the pain of her choice, at least until it's over.

x X x X x

Not having the luxury of a sedative, Clark is racked with guilt, thinking about his mother who would give anything to have what they cannot handle. Now in a room full of women who are burdened with life, he wonders if he will ever again be blessed with such a gift, fearing he may forever regret throwing away his chance to be a father.

x X x X x

Lana walks down the long hallway all alone, her soft gauze gown floating on air as her tiny feet try to carry her as fast as her heart longs to go. Seeming that the hallway stretches on forever she begins running, hoping to reach the end before it's too late.

"Clark!" she calls out, searching through the darkness for the one who can help her.

Her bare feet pound against the cold floor, failing to close the distance between herself and that place she feels she needs to be.

Frantic, she begins turning in circles, lost and alone and frightened to death.

"Clark!" she cries, sliding down the wall, fearful he will never be able to find her.

Then, out of the darkness he appears, standing before her, cradling a newborn infant in his arms.

Lana blinks in disbelief, feeling in her heart this is real.

Rising to her feet, and balancing on her toes she leans in to see the sweet face swaddled within the warm knitted blanket. Clark lowers his arms, presenting their newborn child to its mother, their wide eyes locking.

Softly Lana lets her fingers caress the jet black locks sweetly coiled on the baby's head.

"Ours?" she asks Clark, who only beams back at her, glowing with paternal pride.

"A boy or a girl?" she asks, a question she'll never know the answer to.

"Lana?" Clark says, rising from his seat at her bedside.

"A boy or a girl?" she asks again, speaking slowly, but needing to know more about her child.

"It's all over now," the nurse says, pulling the privacy curtain, assuring Clark with her eyes that she's okay.

With the beautiful image of her dream still burned in her mind, Lana brings her hands to her stomach, searching frantically as the truth slowly fills her waking mind.

x X x X x

Cradling her in his arms Clark fears he may not be strong enough to help Lana through this sorrow. Without hope, her crushed heart cries out, reducing this once strong girl to a broken child. Unable to catch her breath, she sobs uncontrollably, hoping somehow the pain in her heart will end, but fearing it never will.

Softly he smoothes her hair with his hand, his thick shirt soaked with her tears. Knowing they cannot go back to Smallville like this, he searches his mind for any words that might bring her solace, but knowing no such thing exists.

"I want to die," Lana says, the words pouring out from the darkest part of her soul. "Please Clark, tell me I didn't do this," she cries, knotting up his shirt in her small fists, her water filled eyes pleading with him.

Feeling as though he's holding a stranger, Clark doesn't recognize Lana, he doesn't recognize himself. Although locked in an embrace, at this moment he realizes how alone they truly are. He cannot ease her sorrow, nor lessen her regret, neither can she mend his broken heart. Destroying that which they created together likewise destroyed themselves, tearing away all hope, and love and life from within them leaving nothing but sorrow to dwell within two empty hearts.


	4. Chapter 4

As Clark steers the truck home, he wonders just how differently his world will appear now that he is so different.

Longing to be back within the loving embrace of his parent's home, needing to find a warm fortress to battle the cold sting of solitude stabbing at his heart, he finds his foot pressing hard against the gas pedal, hoping to outrun the nightmare that is chasing him.

Finally giving way to her exhaustion, having spent the last hour expelling vomit from the anesthesia, and pouring out the pain inside her soul, Lana leans against Clark's shoulder, no longer able to hold her head upright.

Continuing down the road, he carefully navigates through the washouts in the road, fearing causing her more pain as her head bobs along with the rough terrain.

Softly he looks down at her, noticing her hands are still wrapped within his shirt, as though she is clinging to all she has left of the dream she saw too late. For a moment he finds comfort in the fact that she still needs him, but also fears he cannot give her enough. Fighting against the urge to respect her earlier wish, he gently lets his hand fall on her knee, needing to feel her by him for as long as it might last. Sadly, the soft touch of his skin upon hers makes her cringe yet again, the pain the memory of their love provides within her having overtaken the love. The sad truth is she may have to lean on him, but she has nothing to give him in return.

**x X x X x**

As Clark stands at the bathroom sink waiting for the water to run hot enough, he stares at himself in the mirror, not seeing the relief he hoped to find. Filling his hands with lukewarm water from the faucet, he splashes his face, hoping he can wash away the guilty reflection staring back at him.

Running his hands through his dampened hair, he twists his head to the side, trying to relieve some of the tension pinching the nerves in his shoulders.

Pacing like a caged cat in the small space, he feels sick to

almost savor these moments when he can be alone with his thoughts, seemingly miles away from the sound of her cries.

As his eyes sweep across the small bathroom femininely adorned with shabby chic decor he can't help but recall the afternoon he and Lana spent on the floor, both staring at the little plastic stick that held the truth they didn't want to believe.

Instantly he could see his future, being with Lana, raising their child. They would get married, after they somehow found the strength to tell everyone their news. His mom could take care of the baby, while Lana went to school. He could help his dad work the farm, and one day it would be their own.

As he laid out the plan, step by step solving the problem before them, he couldn't help but notice that his words seemed to upset her, as though she wanted him to listen more than fix.

Every word he spoke made her tighten her grip on her knees, creating a vice which slowly smothered her, making her feel as though she was being sentenced to a life she never asked for, a life she did not want.

Burying her face in her knees she exhaled the words "I

can't," giving way to the ball of emotions within her, fearful

of what kind of future this child would trap them in. Feeling suddenly as though her body, her life was being taken from her, she began to become desperate, needing to find a way to save her self. "We don't have to...," she said, stopping herself as the thought brewing in her mind frightened her to her core.

Still able to see her balled up on the floor, he can hear the

words she whispered that day, the words he knows will ring in his ears forever: "There are other things we can do."

As he watched her rock herself, holding onto her knees, trying to digest the words she just spoke, he felt as though he would drop to his knees as though the words lingering in the air were laced with kryptonite. How could this delicate creature he loves so much deliver such a blow to his heart?

Feeling as though he wanted to hold her and squeeze out the very thought plaguing her, the one he fears would jeopardize their very souls, he can only stand frozen in the moment, remembering the simple words he uttered: "we can't," while in reality knowing and disbelieving they somehow did.

Defending the option that she couldn't believe she was

considering, Lana dropped her face, unable to look him in the eye as she breathed out the words "I have to."

Exhaling his breath, he snaps back into the moment, knowing he cannot succumb to the fears raging in his mind, or the memories haunting it. He cannot look back, knowing he must be there for Lana now. Meet her needs now, regardless of how much he feels their actions, her choice, have parted them. If tomorrow proves a different path lays before them where a fork in the road will forever divide their futures, he would

deal with that then. But while he has her, while he can, he will give her everything he has left in his heart, even if he knows it's too late.

Turning back to the mirror now obscured by the steam of the running water, he grabs the rubber water bottle out of the bag, filling it to the brim with hot water.

Tightening the lid, he wraps the bottle within the plush pink

towel, carefully following the instructions given to him at the clinic, wanting nothing more than to heal her hurt.

Tiptoeing back to her side, he hesitates opening his lips, seeing her eyes closed, relieved for a moment that she has finally allowed herself to find sleep. Yet, as though she's able to sense his presence, her eyes blink open revealing a new level of pain within them.

Beginning to writhe within the sheets that embrace her, her

pretty face twists in agony, the stabbing pain in her abdomen making her believe she is being torn in two. As the blood vessels within her constrict, causing her body to cramp, she kicks her legs against the bed, fighting the imaginary beasts that stab into her.

Praying he can help ease some of her torment, he gently pulls back the sheet, tucking the warm bottle in the bed next to her, all the while watching her with eyes that are no longer innocent.

Unable to endure much more, Lana leans up, throwing her hand over her mouth as once again the horrible sound of wretching fills Clark's ears. In record speed he brings the plastic bucket up to meet her, holding her hair out of the way as she vomits up the remnants of medication.

Carefully he rubs her back as she fights to catch her breath, the violence of her heaves dizzying her practically to delirium.

"Are you okay?" he asks, gently wiping her lips with a

Kleenex.

Feeling her stomach slowly settle back down within in her, she nods away the bucket, not able to commit to being okay.

"Lay down," he whispers, bringing the sheet up to her

shoulders, wiping her forehead with the damp rag from the nightstand.

Laying a spare towel over the bucket, he sets it in the bathroom, anxious to return to her, needing to be there should she want him.

Back at her side, he sees her small frame curled around the warm bottle, allowing the heat to ease the twisting pain within her. Her eyes have closed again, as she hopes to block away every memory of the day.

Exhausted by the journey that seems to stretch on forever, Clark softly sits upon the corner of the bed, allowing his head to fall into this hands, escaping to the darkness in his mind, if only for a minute.


	5. Chapter 5

Lana's soft sighs gently break the silence, enabling Clark to feel safe to exhale himself. Concentrating on the sound of his own breaths, he sits alone with his thoughts.

He so much wants to believe they did right, they chose right, but as he watches her form, barely large enough to dent the bed, shaking with fear, he can only think about how much their decision has broken her heart.

Watching her fragile eyelids flutter as her mind races through the horror of the morning, he prays she will soon be able to quiet her mind long enough to find rest, even if just for an hour.

Carefully lifting himself off the bed, trying hard to not disturb the painless peace she has briefly found, he barely allows his feet to touch the floor as he moves toward the kitchen, his nervous energy not allowing him to sit still for too long.

Peeling her lids open to see his large form walk away from her, she resists the urge to reach out to him, silencing the part of her soul that wants to cry out his name. Feeling lost in a fog, she keeps trying to pull herself free, trying to remember all the reasons why she had to do what she did, but every second her mind reminds her of the sadness, making it impossible for her heart to forget the dream.

Unable to shake the image of the child that had lived inside of her, she cannot make the tears stop falling, feeling she has deprived herself of the most precious gift she may ever receive, fearing her own immaturity, vanity and doubt out spoke the reasoning of her heart.

Wishing somehow she could find a way to let herself deserve his touch again, wanting so much to feel the warmth of his embrace, she lets the part within her that feels she must be punished take the lead, forcing her heart to endure this torment alone.

Letting her eyes wander to the window, seeing the flurries of snow fall from the sky, she can't help but see them as tears floating down from heaven, frozen by the icy winds that her choice brought to the day.

Closing her eyes as she sees the white snow pile into the corner of the window sill, her heart sinks, believing she will never again be as pure, fearing Clark will never be able to see her the same.

**X x X x X**

Clark's large hand awkwardly turns the crank on the can opener, pouring the contents of the red and white can into the bowl. Carefully reading the directions on the side of the label, he fills the can half full with water, diluting the consistency of the soup he can only hope she'll eat.

Tearing a paper towel off of the roll, he places the bowl in the microwave, the beep of the buttons slicing the silence. Pacing around the kitchen as the bowl spins in place, his eyes go to the picture stuck up on the fridge, saddened that neither one of them can summon the same type of smiles they wore in the past. Longing to be near her, his fingers gently glide across her face in the print, the only piece of her he's able to touch, and suddenly the distance between them is tangible.

Still trying to do everything right, he goes to the counter unwrapping the bunch of flowers he brought to her before their trip into town. Although just a few simple daisies, he had hoped they might brighten her day, but now as he looks at their thin little stems he doesn't know how he could've ever been so foolish.

The fact is he can't look at the bunch himself without feeling guilty. When he left the house his mother looked at him beaming with pride that she raised a son that's such a romantic. Sadly though, there was nothing romantic about the date he and Lana had, and if his mother had known the truth, her heart would be broken into pieces. If only their day had been spent on the picnic he'd concocted as a lie to cover their tracks. What could've been a sweet gesture by a suitor turned, in fact, to be too little too late, barely a band aid on the gaping wound on his lover's heart.

**X x X x X**

Bringing the warmed soup over to her side, he fills the small vase on the night stand with a few of the flowers, if for nothing else than to keep himself busy.

"Would you have wanted a girl?" Lana asks, shocking him with the first words she's spoken in hours.

"Don't," he says, kneeling by her side, not able to bear her deepening her torment.

"Please," she pleads, only believing she can find peace in thinking of what could've been. "What what she have looked like?" she asks, her wide eyes glassy in the pale light.

Hearing the desperation in her plea, recognizing the flicker of hope in her eyes, his mind drifts there, the place that for the last month he tried to avoid. In his mind's eye he can see her, a tiny girl with raven hair, twirling around in a tu tu, laughing in the sun. Yes, he would've loved to have a daughter, but he cannot let his lips utter those words, fearing that the dream will never come true.

Weighing heavy upon his heart is the fact that this being, this child they created, was much more of a miracle than Lana could know. It was quite possibly the only child Clark would ever be able to help create, making him fear just how much of himself, the normal part of himself he so long hoped to find, had been sacrificed because she was not ready.

"Shhhhhh," he whispers, hoping to calm her with his tone. "We'll get to see her one day," he says, closing his eyes as he speaks the promise he's not sure he can keep, trying hard to not resent her for the path she's led him down.


End file.
